


Extinisti

by Alphabees



Series: Prompts, Ficlets, Drabbles. [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Because I can't commit, FUCK, Ficlet, JKR, M/M, OR IS IT, Tumblr Prompt, Unrequited Love, and i cannot stress this enough, lowkey angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphabees/pseuds/Alphabees
Summary: For the AU + Trope + Prompt gameHogwarts!AU + Unrequited Love + “I know this looks bad, but I swear, it’s not.”
Relationships: Kurt Hummel/Sebastian Smythe
Series: Prompts, Ficlets, Drabbles. [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776796
Comments: 30
Kudos: 75





	Extinisti

**Author's Note:**

> FUCK JK ROWLING! I don't own her shit but that doesn't mean I have to like her!
> 
> Anyway, this one's for Mizugachi, I hope you all enjoy - and maybe do me a favour and check out the notes at the end? Ta!

As a prefect of Gryffindor house, Kurt takes his position rather seriously.

He tries not to be too much of a snitch - until the first years are singing the tips of one another’s robes he usually leaves them be - and his patrols are mostly spent humming muggle showtunes in a gentle stroll.

That being said, he has a reputation for being relentlessly tough on bullies. The rules he cares about enforcing most are the ones that prevent that sort of cruelty, but he’s not averse to giving out detentions if he happens to catch anybody loitering in the halls after curfew either. He usually offers to hear them out, particularly the younger students, but every now and then he stumbles across somebody with no good reason for being out of bed. 

He always leaves checking the dungeons for the end of his route because, frankly, they creep him out. It’s bad enough during the day when he has potions class to distract him from how slimy the walls look (he refuses to touch them and confirm his suspicions) and how each footstep has its own eerie echo. At night, even in his final year, he always power-walks away from them all the way back to his dorm - it’s good exercise, and that’s why he leaves it for last. 

When he reaches the bottom step he freezes. A warm, flickering glow emanates from the archway ahead which Kurt knows would lead him into the potions classroom; he would be thankful for the light if it wasn’t for that terrifying sound coming from the very same place.

A deep, animalistic snarl reverberates through the corridor with unpredictable rhythm. It softens, and then stops dead, before starting again so loudly that Kurt takes a step back. 

It isn’t entirely unheard of for students to sneak living things into the school, be it for a prank, or simply because they got too attached during care of magical creatures class. It doesn’t sound like a crup though - when Kurt hears this noise he envisions fangs and claws, or the venom that could shoot through them if he let them get close enough.

Come to think of it, last week he heard whisperings in the halls of somebody smuggling a baby Acromantula into the castle years ago. Now, as Kurt approaches with his wand drawn, he tries to recall how long it takes for them to reach full maturity.

With a deep, sharp breath, he rounds the corner and finds him pointing a wand at--

...A student.

Not just any student. 

Unmistakably, he’s pointing his wand at Sebastian Smythe. He’s slumped over the work-station, neglecting the cauldron that’s still bubbling over dwindling embers, making the dreadful noise that Kurt can now accurately label as snoring. 

It’s not the green and silver tie dangling over the edge of the table or the familiar light chestnut hue of his hair that gives his identity away; it’s the scent permeating every inch of the room.

Most of the time Kurt only smells it in passing, so it’s a little dizzying to experience it this way, concentrated and inescapable. Sebastian must have spent a lot of time by the fireplace in his common room today because there’s a pleasant smokey undertone to his aroma that isn’t usually there. It reminds Kurt too much of a hearth to be anything else - he’s always adored that smell. Along with that, there’s a fragrance he recognises from the prefect’s bathroom despite rarely using it himself - aloe and cucumber. It’s light and refreshing in a frustratingly alluring way, considering the person he most heavily associates it with. He feels a little weird upon realising that he knows exactly which soap Sebastian bathes with, but it can’t be helped; they have equal access to all of those products. Kurt went through every single option when he was first appointed before he settled on lavender and cedarwood.

There’s something else in the air too though, which he only catches after he takes a long, deep whiff. Something that doesn’t make as much sense.

Chocolate souffle. 

His mother used to bake them all the time, and Kurt remembers the joy he’d feel, the complete sense of _home_ he’d get whenever he got back from muggle school to find one. It took him something close to seven years after her passing to make a half-decent replica.

Kurt suspiciously eyes the cauldron as he walks over. Once he’s close enough to peer into it and take in the way it gleams like the surface of a pearl, he prods Sebastian with his wand. Kurt knows exactly what that shimmer means.

Sebastian jerks upright, fluttering his lashes as he tries to get his bearings and, in a way that inexplicably humanises him a little for Kurt, wipes some drool off of his cheek against his sleeve. There’s an almost charming innocence to it until he looks behind him - his eyes flit from Kurt’s pointedly arched eyebrow to his tightly folded arms, and that’s when the guilt sets in.

“I know this looks bad, but I swear, it’s not.”

“Amortentia, Sebastian?” Kurt hisses, with one more prod for good measure, because it’s a more acute way of expressing the many reasons he’s abhorred by the scene he stumbled in on. Sebastian Smythe, non-committal flirt of the century, is the last person he would expect to be interested in such a concoction, but the evidence points towards him being responsible for its creation. Sebastian grunts, swatting ineffectively at the impromptu torture device - Kurt can only imagine he views it as one, from the grumpy way his nose scrunches up. “Please, explain to me what mitigating circumstances you have for being here after hours, sleeping in front of an open flame? A flame which, by the way, seems to be heating what I can only describe as liquified manipulation? Some Head Boy you are! Did it ever occur to you while you were brewing this that using ingredients from the professor’s supplies is not only an abuse of your position but also--”

“What do you smell?”

That one question is enough to put a stopper in his tirade. Kurt isn’t exactly sure why he’s considering answering it. Maybe it’s the nervous urgency Sebastian’s looking at him with, or maybe it’s the fact that they’ve been inhabiting a strange limbo between rivalry and friendship (moving ever closer to the latter) for almost seven years. Whether Kurt likes it or not, they know each other too well for Kurt to think he’s asking for a trivial reason.

“I’ll tell you,” Kurt replies warily. “If you do the same.”

Sebastian sits up straighter, rubbing at his eyes and drawing Kurt’s attention to the dark circles underneath them. Kurt feels a pang of sympathy, and then guilt as he remembers teasing Sebastian a few days ago for yawning in their shared classes.

“Croissants.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Croissants. That’s the first thing I smell,” Sebastian clarifies, and Kurt can tell just how much this is bothering him. If it wasn’t, he would’ve made fun of Kurt for not getting that right away. “Freshly baked, obviously,” he adds as if anything else would be an embarrassment. 

“Is that why you’ve ripped the rulebook in half and used it as kindling for this potion?” Kurt asks, his voice wavering a little as the steam infiltrates his senses. He clears his throat - infatuation won’t do him any good, especially not if it’s magically induced. “Because you’re too good for pumpkin pasties?”

“I love pumpkin pasties as much as the next wizard, and you’re asking too many questions. I’ve told you one of mine - it’s your turn.”

Kurt sighs. “Chocolate souffle,” he admits, and it makes him feel more exposed than he could have expected. “My mom’s specialty.”

“Ah,” Sebastian nods, and Kurt braces for one of those awkward silences. He hates those - and frankly, he can’t think of anything worse than a heavy pause with something that reminds him so intrinsically of her hanging in the air, even if it’s a scent that makes him happy. Thankfully, Sebastian doesn’t let it hang for too long, and Kurt doesn’t let himself wonder if it’s got something to do with that glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “It sounds special.”

Kurt hadn’t been expecting a response like that. It was oddly comforting, and it could easily work as an invitation to talk about her a little more, or a way to change the subject entirely. 

“Trying to butter me up to get out of your detention?” is what he eventually settles on, although he contradicts it with an effusive smile. He shifts his gaze to the shining mixture that makes every breath he takes more delightful than the last as opposed to Sebastian - he doesn’t need to think he’s off the hook. 

Sebastian snorts, shaking his head with a sense of disbelief, like Kurt’s delivered the punchline to a joke he didn’t know was set up for him. By now he knows better than to totally seize up and assume that Sebastian’s laughing _at_ him, but he’s wary nonetheless. He watches as Sebastian runs a hand through his hair and he can see his fingers flexing, tugging, the way he usually does when he’s stressed. 

All the little details feel like pieces of a puzzle, but it doesn’t faze Kurt. This is what they do; they’ve been spinning around one another since they met in a wordless dance, figuring eachother out a little more with each step.

“Maybe. Are you trying to get out of telling me what you smell right now?” Sebastian counters, annoyingly correct as always. 

“It’s your turn.”

“Touché,” Sebastian shrugs. “I smell rain.”

“Rain?” Kurt’s nose scrunches up, as if he’ll pick up on it too if he tries hard enough. “That--”

“It does! It has a smell, I swear,” Sebastian huffs, petulant. It’s almost endearing, with his hair sticking up as haphazardly as it is. “The next time it rains, I’ll take you out there and prove it.”

“Well, I smell a roaring fireplace, so once you’ve gotten me soaked for that little endeavour, we’ll dry off by one of those.”

“We?”

Kurt doesn’t know what to do about how hopeful Sebastian sounds when he says that, and so he chooses to ignore it entirely.

“Obviously, I’m going to follow you down to the dungeons and torture you with my whining until my robes are bone dry again.”

Sebastian laughs, and for the first time that night his smile reaches his eyes. “Or, even more obviously, we could just use a hot-air charm and be done with it in a matter of seconds?”

“That’s fitting, considering you’re usually full of hot air.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave, and Kurt wonders when that started happening. 

“Is that all you got from it? Croissants and rain?”

Sebastian shifts in his seat, adjusting the way his cloak sprawls beneath him, and Kurt knows that’s his stalling move. Kurt can’t imagine what it is that he’s more reluctant to reveal than rain.

“No, it’s not.” A very helpful answer, as always.

“Am I supposed to guess? There are a lot of smells out there…” Kurt pouts, and Sebastian looks back at the desk.

“You’re right. The last one… It’s the strongest, and the only one I expected to pick up on.”

Kurt’s brows shoot up; for all his studying around the potion, both for class and his own curiosity, he hadn’t heard of anybody knowing what it would be in advance. Recognising the fragrances was one thing, foretelling them was another. 

Sebastian’s smile is half-hidden, but wry and contemplative all the same. It occurs to Kurt then - that smile has an aura of grim acceptance. It’s the expression of somebody that’s connected two dots and forced away the veil over a harsh truth. Something’s clicked, possibly for the worse.

Things click for Kurt, too. Sebastian’s been sluggish through classes and, in general, quieter. Pensive, reflective, and possibly afraid. He’s smart, one of the smartest people Kurt knows, but there’s no way he brewed a perfect amortentia on his first attempt, so what has all that effort been for? What did he need to know so badly that it might well have been frightening him?

Sebastian’s robes rustle as he moves, slowly lowering his head onto his folded arms, hiding his face and snapping Kurt out of his speculations. He says something then, but it’s muffled by his sleeves, and Kurt takes a tentative step closer.

He turns his head slightly, locking one unusually timid eye with Kurt’s as he says it again.

“Lavender.”

There’s a silence as the steam swirls around them. They both know what he means.  
Sebastian has been staying up each night for goodness knows how long, just to try and prove to himself that he isn’t attracted to Kurt. 

Is he really that repugnant? Sebastian used to make crueler comments like that during their first few years at school, but it’s been so long since he’s said anything to that effect. Kurt had almost forgotten. 

A deeper flood of dread (is it dread?) swirls in his gut when he remembers stepping into the room, and the way he knew Sebastian was the culprit before he’d even looked at him. His scent.

It’s still filling the room, and Kurt doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Always… Fucking lavender,” Sebastian breathes, his eyes clenching shut before he hides his face again. He looks miserable; like he’s been defeated, and Kurt hasn’t been so infuriated by him for years. “...What about you?”

Kurt blinks-- in fact he bawks. Where does Sebastian get off, asking that of him, after treating him like such a disappointment?

“Go to bed,” Kurt orders him, cold and distant. The familiarity from before is gone, because Kurt can’t help but wonder how well he knew him at all. “I’m not playing this game with you any more, least of all after hours.”

“Kurt…? Wh--”

“It’s past curfew!” Kurt cuts him off; he doesn’t want to hear any more. That swirling in his gut has turned painful, enough to nauseate him. He points his wand at the flame beneath the cauldron, even though it’s barely holding on as it is. “Extinisti,” he mutters, and then it’s gone.

Sebastian stands up, his hair messy and his eyes… Pained, somehow. 

Kurt stares into the slowly cooling liquid, ignoring Sebastian as he takes his leave. He stays there a while longer, alone except for the company of that lingering heavenly scent, taunting him with every breath.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm a sucker for Hogwarts AU's. I have a plot in mind for a longer one, featuring Kurtbastian of course, and I know I have other things to be writing... But I just want to gauge the interest on that, if there is any? (Lia if you're reading this you know which one I'm on about!!!)
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
